Monday, October 31, 2016

Given Freely

Every leaf falls at its own pace. Accidents happen, and turn our lives upside down. We become aware more often in the sudden and unexpected, unless we take time to listen to our everydayness, take time with the pace, not get paced.

Recently returning to the Examen, I've found myself far more in touch with something internal and less disconnected from my family, far less likely to jump ahead in time, make assumptions, and let my emotions lead me. Instead, I am slowly relearning how to read myself, my daily situations, and others, pausing long enough to do this, and become more aware. I find so many think their own realities are the real ones, and others fake or wrong, but that’s our human problem—that we cannot see and won’t acknowledge the many facets of truth in reality, and have chosen to live for so long in surreality that it’s too hard to step out of it.

That is, until you do step out, and then spend some time being in that space, not counting on the cues and tools that set you firmly in surreality to begin with.

I’m fascinated by the way this practice of Examen lines up with other spiritual practices which hold as valuable the acknowledgment of something outside ourselves. The pause and consideration of the conscience, of the inner self, of the way in which sharing the self can impact others’ lives. The way these connect, the metaphysical. I have gone in and out of practice in prayer and meditation for years, and I know from experience that a practice is the gold mine, is where I can draw the most awareness of intention, positive action, and lessening of reaction, of simply knee-gut reactive, be this defense or offense.

In doing this, in surrendering to awareness, I find myself most receptive—most vulnerable—and therefore most capable of a fullness of love.

When I look around and see the level of hatred which does exist, I have to hold myself away from it some, to be able to discern what is my necessary journey, and marveling at what will be another’s, however difficult that path will be. What part will I play in the mix, and what will leave me shaking my head, wishing I could do more? I know lately that’s been a thing.

But humans want to win; something inside us is torn between just being and taking control. If we’re conscious human beings, though, we realize to what extent control is a joke. Our every moment is a precious gift, given freely. Why shouldn’t we want to then take it into our trembling hands and live it carefully, fully, whole-heartedly?